Footsteps close in behind me. My heart almost leaps out of my throat as I whirl and see a figure emerging from the shadows.

Perry.

I thank the skies he’s not an Aud or he’d have heard everything I just said. Then I remember that he is a Scire, and two thoughts spring into my head: he will know my hateful feelings toward Aria, and he will smell vomit on me.

Standing, I pull my sleeve behind my back and summon my happiest memory in hopes of softening the bitterness I’m certain is in my temper.

Clara’s giggle comes to mind. The burbling sound my sister makes when she laughs—hopefully preserved despite her time with the Dwellers—is all I can come up with, but it’s enough to make me smile.

Perry stops in front of me, but his eyes hold on Aria for a beat. His hair is pulled back, with the shorter strands pinned behind his ear. “Hey, Brooke.”

“Hey, Per.” I’m relieved that I sound calm.

His weight settles to one hip as he looks around. “Doesn’t look like there’s been much improvement.”

My eyes stray to his narrow waist and then to the dusty leather pants that skim his long, muscular legs. He is nineteen now, and the only boy left in him is his ranginess. The leanness that makes him look even taller than he is.

I take in his crooked nose, his steep cheekbones. The bright green of his unrelenting eyes. He is weathered and softened like a seashell. Beautiful in the exact opposite way of the plain perfectness of the Dwellers.

He looks back at me, waiting for me to respond. I want to say that he improved this place the second he appeared. It’s the kind of thing I would have said once. But I just say, “Not really. If anything, they’re worse.”

“How is she doing?” he asks, tipping his chin.

The coals in my stomach crackle with heat. While I’ve been mooning over how beautiful he is, he’s been thinking about Aria.

I’m losing to a girl who’s unconscious.

“I don’t know.” An hour ago, Molly and Marron huddled by Aria as they discussed her injury, but I wasn’t listening. All I know is that the wound seems to be festering, but that’s true for many things around here.

Perry lets out a slow breath, and his focus settles on me squarely. He is no longer thinking about Aria. He is thinking about me. I know because a shadow falls over his eyes and he suddenly looks guilty. Maybe even a little worried.

“Take a walk with me, Brooke?”

I didn’t expect that. “I can’t right now,” I blurt. All I’ve wanted for months is time alone with him, but now I find myself trying to escape it. “Molly wanted me to—”

“I just saw her. She’s sending Marron and a few others over. She said you’re free to go.”

“Oh. All right.”

As we walk out, I’m glad he’s in front of me so I can try to gather myself. I know nothing is going to happen between us, but it doesn’t appear that my body is aware of this. My pulse races, and anticipation curls through me. It’s a familiar feeling. Six months ago we’d sneak into this cave, Roar and Liv trailing behind us, and I would land in Perry’s arms.

“Brooke,” he says, turning suddenly. We are somewhere in one of the jagged corridors that weave through the caverns inside the mountain. There’s a lantern far ahead, but the light is dim. I can only see the soft glint of the Blood Lord chain at Perry’s neck. “How are you doing?”

Sounds bounce around in all this rock, and though he is two paces away, it feels as though he whispered the question right into my ear. Gooseflesh prickles the skin on my arms.

“Clara’s back. Liv is dead. How do you think I am?”

It’s a rude comment, but I don’t know what else to say. He rejected me. Does he really expect me to confide in him? And I don’t know why he’s asking me that question, anyway. If anyone knows how I am, it’s Perry. His nephew, Talon, was missing just like Clara. And Liv was his sister. He lost her too.

There are no words to describe the emotions colliding inside me. My friend is gone; my sister is back. I am scalding and yet I’m chilled to the bone. I am angry. I am sadder than I’ve ever been in my life. My emotions rise and fall like the stoop and soar of a hawk.

I am scared. I am alone. I don’t know what I am, and I miss him, and he shouldn’t ask me that question, because he knows. He can scent it. He is living it. He is breathing my pain.

Perry lets out a slow breath. “Can I do anything?”

“You have enough to do.”

“I care about you, Brooke.”

“No, you don’t. I know who you care about.” I point to the Dweller cavern. “She’s in there.”

I don’t want to say any of this. There are times I wish I had a cork to stopper my mouth.

Perry takes a step closer, his voice growing softer and quieter. “Aria and I are together, and that’s not going to change. But I want us to change. I want us to move past this.”

“There is no us anymore, Peregrine. You made sure of that.”

I can’t look into his worried eyes for another second, so I stare at the links of his chain. I want to wrap my fingers around it and pull his mouth down to mine. I want to feel his lips. His tongue. His body.

It makes no sense. He broke my heart and I still want him so much. How is that possible?

Maybe I caught the Dwellers’ fever. Maybe I’m delirious.

We are quiet for a long, long stretch that’s probably only seconds. But I can’t leave and he can’t leave, and every time he speaks, I feel worse.

“Brooke . . . you’re one of the best people I know,” he says softly, breaking our silence.

The words fall like frost on my skin. “Am I, Perry? That’s great to know.” I step forward. He doesn’t back away. I have to tilt my head up to see into his eyes. We’re only inches apart. Not as close as I want us to be. “Well, you know what? You’re one of the best Blood Lords I know. How does it feel to be almost the best?”

Silence. A muscle flexes in his jaw, but he doesn’t speak.

“It’s a bit like not being good enough at all, isn’t it?” I say.

“You’re twisting my words. That’s not what I meant to—”

“It is, Perry. It is what you meant. Admit it. I’m not good enough for you.”

Before he can say another word, I spin and head into the darkness. I don’t even bother trying to walk. I run.

My feet strike the hard stone ground at a reckless pace, but I don’t hear a sound. Not my footfalls, or my own breathing. There is only a desperate plea, filling my thoughts.

Get out of my heart, Perry.

Please. Get out of my heart.

2

With the hours I spent helping Molly, I missed supper with my sister. That streaks me more than anything else has today.

My stomach rumbles loudly with hunger, like it’s demanding to be heard. I imagine it taunting me: You thought vomit and brokenheartedness was all? Foolish of you.

I want to find Clara, but first I make a quick detour to the cluttered cavern that serves as our kitchen, grateful to find a leftover piece of bread. It’s burnt and so hard it feels like a log, but it’s food. I pull the dagger from my belt and cut the center, then wedge a thick slice of goat cheese inside. I head for the main cavern, managing not to chip any teeth as I wolf down my meager meal.

When we found out we’d be moving from the Tide compound to this cave, Marron took it upon himself to make it as livable as possible. He had a wooden platform installed at the center of the main cavern—a raised dais, about a foot and a half tall and forty feet square. His idea was that people needed a smooth place to sit and eat.

It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to at the time, but he was right to have it built. It’s the area where the tribe gathers now. The platform always has at least a dozen people sitting on it and along its perimeter. It’s where we socialize and spend our free time—what little we have of it.

The platform is my first stop in my search to find Clara, and I’m smiling before I even get there. Just thinking about my sister makes me forget Perry’s you’re one of the best people comment.

“Brooke!” Gren calls out. He stands to the left of the platform. Gren is one of the Six. The three Seer brothers are with him as well. Twig isn’t here—he’s away with Roar—and Reef is absent too, probably off growling at someone about something. So at this very moment, the Six are actually the Four.

Despite being relatively young, the Six are harder-edged than the men born into my tribe. “Borderland tough,” my father says of them. Fighters to the core. They used to be a wandering pack that had no allegiance to a Blood Lord. They’d still be in the borderlands if it weren’t for Perry, who won their loyalty and brought them into the Tides.

Perry is like that. Always gathering strays. I see evidence of it everywhere. In Marron and the Six. In the Dwellers. Even in a mutt like Flea. Perry never turns anyone away.

Only me.

“Hey.” I walk up to them, resting a hand on my hip. From the corner of my eye, I see bread crumbs on my chest, so I brush them off.

Hyde’s cheeks turn radish red as a blush creeps over them. Hayden and Straggler start elbowing each other. Gren’s smile widens, his eyes leaving my face and straying downward.

I roll my eyes. Gren and Hayden are in their twenties, unlike Hyde and Straggler, who are closer to my age of nineteen, but they all behave as though they are twelve. Collectively. “What do you need?” I ask Gren.

“You, Brooke,” he says immediately. “I need you.”

I shake my head. Here we go.

“I do too,” says Hayden. “I’m desperate for you.”

“Don’t listen to them, Brooke,” says Hyde. “I need you.”

“I need you the most,” says Straggler, the youngest brother.

“Keep out of this, boy-man. You don’t know anything about women.”

“That’s why I need her the most! Teach me, Brooke!”

I let them go on for a little while. I like the Six. I’ve known every male in the Tides since I was born, and I’m related to almost half of them, so it’s fun having new boys around. They joke constantly, but I’ve fought alongside them and I trust them. They might be a little crass, but they respect me. I’d beat them blue if they didn’t.

“Have you seen my sister?” I say, cutting them off.

Silence falls over them. Their smiles fade, and they look at one another like I’ve just given them a complicated problem to solve. Thankfully, Bear, who is sitting nearby, overhears.

“With your parents,” he calls over. “They’ve taken her to bed.”

“See you,” I say to the Six. I head to the tucked-away section of the main cavern where we have tents set up, hoping I’ll catch Clara before she falls asleep.

Gren jogs up beside me, so silent he’s almost at my side before I notice him. His ruddy, wavy hair looks like hammered copper in the dimness. He is the biggest joker of the Six. When there’s mischief happening, he’s usually at the helm, so I’m almost smiling before he speaks.